Months ago, my family and I were going through the painful task of going through my Grandmother’s things and splitting them up between us.  Upon tackling the dining room, we found the cupboard that contained our Santa Mugs. We had a set of 7 mugs with our names on them; Don (my Papa), Tommie (my grandma), Mark (my uncle), Wendy (my aunt), Dan (my dad), Rhiannen (misspelled!) and Helen (my grandma’s sister). The corresponding mug went at each of our place settings. Years ago, there were always seven mugs at the table, the past 10 years or so, there have been only five. My aunt said she’d take hers and my Grandma’s. My uncle and my dad said they didn’t want theirs. At some point we decided that I’d keep all the mugs.

For some reason, in my heart, I thought that if I kept all the mugs together that we’d stay together. That on Christmas Eve, I’d set four mugs at the dinner table, and I’d share a meal with my family. Turns out, I’m really naive.

My Aunt emailed on my birthday to wish me a happy birthday and to ask how I was feeling. She also let me know that she’d not be spending Christmas with us. Today, I received the same email from my Uncle.

I feel defeated. I feel alone. I feel like my Grandma is looking down on her family and is digusted that just 10 months after her death we’ve already gone our separate ways.

I knew it would be hard, this holiday season. Thanksgiving was not my favorite, I missed her on my birthday. But, I’m just so frustrated that during a holiday that is going to be so obviously hard for each of us, that my aunt and uncle are pushing away. I’m angry at them for leaving my dad and I alone. I’m scared that he and I will have a terrible holiday.

I can’t stop reading the words that they wrote to me. I wonder if they knew how hurtful (albeit unintentional) those words were to me. This is weighing so heavy on my heart and I don’t know what to do.

So, the mugs are sitting on a shelf in my pantry. I can’t bear to look at them, yet I feel ridiculously guilty that they’ll go unused this year. I know that things will never be the same without her, but I’d appreciate if not everything had to change all at once.

There is SO much in my life I have to be thankful for, but honestly, today is going to be a struggle.

When I was seven years old, a nun (I went to Parochial School) ushered me into her office and gave me a book on grieving. Later I learned that my Grandpa had passed away. And, even LATER, (as in this year, I learned that my dad, aunt, and uncle had to make the decision to disconnect his breathing machine). It was Thanksgiving week.

When I was 13 years old, I was suffering from my very first kidney infection, I had also gotten braces on that week (who makes their kid get braces the same week as Thanksgiving?). I learned this week that my Auntie Helen passed away.

It was this year that my dad’s side of the family pretty much stopped celebrating this holiday. Last year, for the first time in I don’t know how long, I spent the holiday with my dad, at our beach house. I remember talking to my Grandma and her telling me that they were just going to have chicken, “Because she liked it better.” Take that, pilgrims! So, even though I probably wouldn’t even had seen her today, I’m missing my Grandma. There would have been a phone call. We would have talked about the parade, she would have asked what I was going to eat for dinner. I would have been able to hear her sweet voice.

So, today, I’ll drive to our house at the beach. We’ll visit the cemetery where my Grandma is buried beside my Grandpa and her two brothers and sisters. And, we’ll eat dinner, just the two of us.

I know this first set of holidays without her is going to be the hardest. Buying one less card at Mother’s Day was terrible, her birthday was terrible, and I’m scared to think about how Christmas will be without my sweet grandma.

There are two places in my life where I’ve never had trouble sleeping. Places where I’ve felt so safe that I don’t wake up in a panic, wondering where I’m at, places where I don’t toss and turn. Both of these homes were my Grandmother’s, and both are places where there is SO much love and so much serenity that I could just sleep, and sleep and sleep and not worry.

I have to say goodbye to one of these places. We’ve known that my Grandma’s main home would be sold. We’ve known it. But now, before it’s even on the market, there is a very interested buyer. And, it’s time to say goodbye.

Goodbye to the TV Room, where we watched taped episodes of Anne of Green Gables together, and also played with a teeny tiny Lhasa Apso puppy, named Chou-Li.

Goodbye to the breakfast nook where many an awkward photo was taken.

But, also some pretty fantastic ones.

Goodbye to the family room, where a teeny tiny girl opened many a Christmas Present.

And, where a not so teeny tiny girl did the very same thing for the next 20 years.

Goodbye to the patio, from where you could see the best damn view in Portland.

And, the prettiest flowers.

Goodbye to the living room where some of my best memories were made.

And, where we came together as a family.

If the next family has even a smidgen of the good memories we’ve had in this house, I think they’ll be very happy.

I’m feeling a bit “eh” today. I went over to my Grandma’s this morning to spend some time with my aunt and also get some plants. We spent some time going through her jewelry and just chatting. I enjoyed spending this time with her and am glad that my family is really pulling together during this difficult time.

I’m so thankful for this family that I have. A family that knows the power of a good hug and how much a squeeze of the hand can mean. As we’ve watched my Grandma’s journey Home, I’ve learned that you can learn SO so much if you just listen. I feel like the last few days I spent with my Grandma cemented our hearts together. I know she’s an Angel on my shoulder and I know she’ll live forever in my heart.

I’m thankful for the friends that have sent emails, text messages, and cards. While many phone calls have gone unreturned, I’m glad to know you’re thinking of me. I’m thankful for the sweet comments I’ve received and that you’ve not grown tired of “Rhiannon’s Grandma Blog.”

While I am in so much pain right now, I am so blessed to have such wonderful souls surrounding me.

Thank You.

I sit here, in her chair. She would have loved the weather today. The air is cool, and the sun breaks occasionally. There are lots of people out today. They walk by on the promenade, some stopping occasionally to gaze up at the house. She loved it here.

I should be out and about, enjoying the fresh sea air. But today, I want to sit in this house she loved so much. The house that my Grandpa would drive us to on the weekend, then leave the two us here during the week while he was back in Portland working. It seems like I should be too little to remember that. But, I do. I remember taking a taxicab to the grocery store with my Grandma and her sister. Neither of them had driver’s licenses, so we’d do this. Take a cab to the market, to dinner, wherever we needed to go.

I’d spend my days in the sunroom playing with my aunt’s old Barbie Dolls. There was a mini Simon and Garfunkel album. “Who the heck are they?” I remember thinking. We’d walk down to the beach, my Auntie Helen and Grandma finding a log to sit on while I filled my pail with sand and looked for shells.

I remember once being at dinner in Cannon Beach for dinner with my Grandma and Grandpa; I must have been really little, as he was sill alive. We had a round booth facing the ocean. I lost my earring in that booth. When they brought my dinner, it had a tomato soufflé with it. Name a six year old who will eat that. Next, they brought brussel sprouts. Those got sent back as well. I don’t know what came next, but my Grandpa insisted I eat it. I was a good girl, so I did.

I remember trying on new school clothes, my Grandma seated on the chair outside the fitting room. Always approving of dresses and skirts, but still allowing me a pair of Guess Jeans. And, even once, a Guess Jean Skirt.

I remember the last time we were here together, my Grandma, my dad and I. My aunt was here too. I brought my cat Spencer. I wish I had known then that it would be our last time here, all together. We went to dinner, I am not sure where. But, she probably had the salmon. She always had the salmon.

Now, we’re here again for a completely different reason. We’re here to lay her to rest. Next to my Grandfather. Near my Great Aunt, my Great Uncle. Near her other brothers and sisters. I’m here now in a house that reminds me so very much of being a little girl, doing a very grown up thing.

I’m longing for those days. I want to fill my sand pail up with sand, with my Grandma gazing lovingly at me from the driftwood log. Like I’m doing something no other little girl has ever done before.

I want to sit at the card table and have a game of Mille Bornes, or Upwords. Or, Double Solitaire. She’d exclaim, “You’re trouncing me!”

It’s here at the beach, I most remember waking up in the morning and climbing into her gigantic King Size bed, bringing with me a book. For a while she’d read to me, and then I became old enough that I’d read to her. We’d read Maile, The Marvelous One, a story about a mongoose. Or, LoLo, the story of another mongoose, who gets a band-aid at the end of the story, because she didn’t obey her mother.

On the mantle, a plate sits, it reads: “I love coming to your house at the beach. Love, Rhiannon, September 1982”

And, I do. I love coming to your house at the beach.